r. f. murray-his poems with a memoir-第12部分
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So still she was； that had you seen her there；
You might have thought you were beholding death。
Her lips were parted； but if any breath
Came from between them； it were hard to know
By any movement of her breast of snow。
But when the summer night was now far spent；
She kneeled upon the floor。 Her head she leant
Down on the cold stone of the window…seat。
God knows if there were any vital heat
In those pale brows； or if they chilled the stone。
And as she knelt； she made a bitter moan；
With words that issued from a bitter soul； …
‘O Mary； Mother； and is this thy goal；
Thy peace which waiteth for the world…worn heart？
Is it for this I live and die apart
From all that once I knew？ O Holy God；
Is this the blessed chastening of Thy rod；
Which only wounds to heal？ Is this the cross
That I must carry； counting all for loss
Which once was precious in the world to me？
If Thou be God； blot out my memory；
And let me come； forsaking all； to Thee。
But here； though that old world beholds me not；
Here； though I seek Thee through my lonely lot；
Here； though I fast； do penance day by day；
Kneel at Thy feet； and ever watch and pray；
Beloved forms from that forsaken world
Revisit me。 The pale blue smoke is curled
Up from the dwellings of the sons of men。
I see it； and all my heart turns back again
From seeking Thee； to find the forms I love。
‘Thou； with Thy saints abiding far above；
What canst Thou know of this； my earthly pain？
They said to me； Thou shalt be born again；
And learn that worldly things are nothing worth；
In that new state。 O God； is this new birth；
Birth of the spirit dying to the flesh？
Are these the living waters which refresh
The thirsty spirit； that it thirst no more？
Still all my life is thirsting to the core。
Thou canst not satisfy； if this be Thou。
And yet I dream； or I remember how；
Before I came here； while I tarried yet
Among the friends they tell me to forget；
I never seemed to seek Thee； but I found
Thou wert in all the loveliness around；
And most of all in hearts that loved me well。
‘And then I came to seek Thee in this cell；
To crucify my worldliness and pride；
To lay my heart's affections all aside；
As carnal hindrances which held my soul
From hasting unencumbered to her goal。
And all this have I done； or else have striven
To do； obeying the behest of Heaven；
And my reward is bitterness。 I seem
To wander always in a feverish dream
On plains where there is only sun and sand；
No rock or tree in all the weary land；
My thirst unquenchable； my heart burnt dry。
And still in my parched throat I faintly cry；
Deliver me； O Lord： bow down Thine ear！
‘He will not answer me。 He does not hear。
I am alone within the universe。
Oh for a strength of will to rise and curse
God； and defy Him here to strike me dead！
But my heart fails me； and I bow my head；
And cry to Him for mercy； still in vain。
Oh for some sudden agony of pain；
To make such insurrection in my soul
That I might burst all bondage of control；
Be for one moment as the beasts that die；
And pour my life in one blaspheming cry！'
The morning came； and all the convent towers
Were gilt with glory by the golden hours。
But where was Ursula？ The sisters came
With quiet footsteps； calling her by name；
But there was none that answered。 In her cell；
The glad； illuminating sunshine fell
On form and face； and showed that she was dead。
‘May Christ receive her soul！' the sisters said；
And spoke in whispers of her holy life；
And how God's mercy spared her pain and strife；
And gave this quiet death。 The face was still；
Like a tired child's； that lies and sleeps its fill。
UNDESIRED REVENGE
Sorrow and sin have worked their will
For years upon your sovereign face；
And yet it keeps a faded trace
Of its unequalled beauty still；
As ruined sanctuaries hold
A crumbled trace of perfect mould
In shrines which saints no longer fill。
I knew you in your splendid morn；
Oh； how imperiously sweet！
I bowed and worshipped at your feet；
And you received my love with scorn。
Now I scorn you。 It is a change；
When I consider it； how strange
That you； not I； should be forlorn。
Do you suppose I have no pain
To see you play this sorry part；
With faded face and broken heart；
And life lived utterly in vain？
Oh would to God that you once more
Might scorn me as you did of yore；
And I might worship you again！
POETS
Children of earth are we；
Lovers of land and sea；
Of hill； of brook； of tree；
Of all things fair；
Of all things dark or bright；
Born of the day and night；
Red rose and lily white
And dusky hair。
Yet not alone from earth
Do we derive our birth。
What were our singing worth
Were this the whole？
Somewhere from heaven afar
Hath dropped a fiery star；
Which makes us what we are；
Which is our soul。
A PRESENTIMENT
It seems a little word to say …
FAREWELLbut may it not； when said；
Be like the kiss we give the dead；
Before they pass the doors for aye？
Who knows if； on some after day；
Your lips shall utter in its stead
A welcome； and the broken thread
Be joined again； the selfsame way？
The word is said； I turn to go；
But on the threshold seem to hear
A sound as of a passing bell；
Tolling monotonous and slow；
Which strikes despair upon my ear；
And says it is a last farewell。
A BIRTHDAY GIFT
No gift I bring but worship； and the love
Which all must bear to lovely souls and pure；
Those lights； that； when all else is dark； endure；
Stars in the night； to lift our eyes above；
To lift our eyes and hearts； and make us move
Less doubtful； though our journey be obscure；
Less fearful of its ending； being sure
That they watch over us； where'er we rove。
And though my gift itself have little worth；
Yet worth it gains from her to whom ‘tis given；
As a weak flower gets colour from the sun。
Or rather； as when angels walk the earth；
All things they look on take the look of heaven …
For of those blessed angels thou art one。
CYCLAMEN
I had a plant which would not thrive；
Although I watered it with care；
I could not save the blossoms fair；
Nor even keep the leaves alive。
I strove till it was vain to strive。
I gave it light； I gave it air；
I sought from skill and counsel rare
The means to make it yet survive。
A lady sent it me； to prove
She held my friendship in esteem；
I would not have it as she said；
I wanted it to be for love；
And now not even friends we seem；
And now the cyclamen is dead。
LOVE RECALLED IN SLEEP
There was a time when in your face
There dwelt such power； and in your smile
I know not what of magic grace；
They held me captive for a while。
Ah； then I listened for your voice！
Like music every word did fall；
Making the hearts of men rejoice；
And mine rejoiced the most of all。
At sight of you； my soul took flame。
But now； alas！ the spell is fled。
Is it that you are not the same；
Or only that my love is dead？
I know notbut last night I dreamed
That you were walking by my side；
And sweet； as once you were； you seemed；
And all my heart was glorified。
Your head against my shoulder lay；
And round your waist my arm was pressed；
And as we walked a well…known way；
Love was between us both confessed。
But when with dawn I woke from sleep；
And slow came back the unlovely truth；
I wept； as an old man might weep
For the lost paradise of youth。
FOOTSTEPS IN THE STREET
Oh； will the footsteps never be done？
The insolent feet
Thronging the street；
Forsaken now of the only one。
The only one out of all the throng；
Whose footfall I knew；
And could tell it so true；
That I leapt to see as she passed along；
As she passed along with her beautiful face；
Which knew full well
Though it did not tell；
That I was there in the window…space。
Now my sense is never so clear。
It cheats my heart；
Making me start
A thousand times； when she is not near。
When she is not near； but so far away；
I could not come
To the place of her home；
Though I travelled and sought for a month and a day。
Do you wonder then if I wish the street
Were grown with grass；
And no foot might pass
Till she treads it again with her sacred feet？
FOR A PRESENT OF ROSES
Crimson and cream and white …
My room is a garden of roses！
Centre and left and right；
Three several splendid posies。
As the sender is； they are sweet；
These lovely gifts of your sending；
With the stifling summer heat
Their delicate fragrance blending。
What more can my heart desire？
Has it lost the power to be grateful？
Is it only a burnt…out fire；
Whose ashes are dull and hateful？
Yet still to itself it doth say；
‘I should have loved far better
To have found； coming in to…day；
The merest scrap of a letter。'
IN TIME OF SORROW
Despair is in the suns that shine；
And in the rains that fall；
This sad forsaken soul of mine
Is weary of them all。
They fall and shine on alien streets
From those I love and know。
I cannot hear amid the heats
The North Sea's freshening flow
The people hurry up and down；
Like ghosts that cannot lie；
And wandering through the phantom town
The weariest ghost am I。
A NEW SONG TO AN OLD TUNEFROM VICTOR HUGO
If a pleasant lawn there grow
By the showers caressed；
Where in all the seasons blow
Flowers gaily dressed；
Where by handfuls one may win
Lilies； woodbine； jessamine；
I will make a path therein
For thy feet to rest。
If there live in honour's sway
An all…loving breast
Whose devotion cannot stray；
